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Monday, 26 March 2012

I can pee anywhere anytime. I don't get stage fright and I've almost never been caught.

When I was a gadabout teen on pub crawls with my friends, I would duck up an alley and leave a wet patch without breaking my stride or falling behind my girl fellows.
On an eight hour drive to Sydney I stopped three times by the side of the highway without a second thought and nary a car came to shine it's light on my naked behind.

My motto has always been 'he who hesitates to pee is caught'.
But once... I was caught so badly that it made up for all the other times...

It was a beautiful day for a picnic in the countryside by the river. Lots of other people thought so too and by the afternoon the toilet cans were full to over flowing.
Being the bush babe I am, going behind a tree is always more attractive than a stinky bog so I left the picnic to stroll to the only cover for miles around - a shady clump of greenery forty meters uphill from the sausages, coleslaw and crowds.

I've always wanted to draw a map for a story - a map with a key and all and since I will probably never write an epic novel that requires one I'm taking this opportunity to fulfill a fantasy. I've put together the following illustration so that you can a better perspective on this tale.

After I trudged to the top of the mound I ducked behind a large utility truck. I pulled down my shorts and undies and squatted. I started to pee and the very next second this is what I saw...

The men must have used great stealth and speed to climb that hill, there was no one there a minute ago.

I didn't have enough time to pull up my pants and so did the only thing I could do with such short notice. I sat down in the long grass on my bare bum, pulled my shirt down to cover my thighs and leaned forward with my chin resting on my hand in a nonchalant 'I'm just sitting here checking out your back tyre' kind of way (yes I was that close to it).

The legs walked round the back of the car and the men who owned them took a step back in surprise. I smiled and nodded in a matey 'I've got this covered' kind of way. They looked at me and then at each other with bemusement. One concentrated very hard on putting stuff in the tray at the back of the Ute, then he got in the passenger's side. The driver opened his door, got in, started the engine and drove away leaving me to face the picnickers below.

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

In it's short career my womb has grown two babies. Each time before conception, the boy sperm (better sprinters) rose early and erected signs outside my cervix
in order to confound and distract the girl sperm and so give the boy
sperm the upper hand.

I recently swapped posts for 'Leap Blog Day' with Skwishee from 'Just a Mum' (with a U). In my guest post I imagined I spent the day playing with her little girls.
I
suggested a very attractive sum of money in exchange for her daughters
(one daughter would do) but she hasn't responded. Maybe she thinks I'm
kidding.

Don't get me wrong - I do like boys.
They aren't bitchy - they have their say and then get over it (I remember not speaking to my father for a week after a row that he'd forgotten the next day). I've had to learn to drop things - plates, cups and issues.

They like to do really cool stuff like climbing, camping and sand boarding. I've so enjoyed doing boy stuff with them...

It's kept me fit and strong and young...ish.

In
the past I have considered that my womb could have been fem free
because the god/s are punishing me for a travesty I committed in my
youth. I'm being denied the
pleasure of braiding, teaching the front to back wipe and how to insert a
tampon
because I stole a road sign at eleven, shoplifted at thirteen, lied
about my age to drink in hotels with my big sister at fourteen and
started a long and illustrious career in wagging mass at fifteen.

I console myself with thoughts that I repeat to those who look at me
with pity when I answer their question of offspring...
'Yep - two boys,
but that's okay - goodness! I really wouldn't know what to do with a girl if one
was offered me!'

Although I sometimes feel like...

a bottle of detergent in a sea of sausage

I'm glad now because boys
suit me and I kind of enjoy being a rare thing in my house. They might
try to put me in the dumb blonde corner sometimes but I mostly have the
feeling that my opinion matters to these males who need us females even
though they don't like to admit it, but I still wonder sometimes what my girl child would have been like had I spawned one...

I see myself and my mini me shopping (yuck!) for
girl stuff (whatever that is) on a Saturday morning and stopping for coffee and
fat free cake (yuck) at Glorious Beans. We'd titter and bitch about the waitress
whilst browsing Vogue and Girlfriend (yuck).

But in reality we'd
probably hate each other.
When she's little she'd like frilly pink
dresses (blah) that no self respecting tree climber would put on their muscular toned
body.
As a teenager she'd be out an out there, strong, and sexy young woman who thinks her mother should be covered in a black
sheet in the corner of the lounge room or stuffed in a rag bag at an opportunity
shop.
She'd be pretty and check her reflection in every passing window and hate the things I love - bush walking, camping and art.

Monday, 19 March 2012

Welcome to the funny cartoon type bloggers, multi personalitied funny Susan from Super Earthling, the clever Ellen (help send her into space) from Defenestrated Feet, and to the sensitive and talented writer Gweenbrick
who has come to find out how old I am and has three guesses at my age. If he guesses to within a year of
the right age he wins this beautiful pink edged sailing ship antique place mat which could be older than me.

Welcome also to Nina with whom I have shared many artistic posts on google+.

I'm always surprised, excited and humbled (in that order) when I have a new guest. I wonder what you've read to make you want to come back and hope you won't be disappointed.

Autumn is in the air here in Oz. It's been quiet here lately. My typing fingers have been avoiding my brain and I've even taken to re-reading old posts...reminiscing about my early days as a new blogger - last November - when I first went Into the Wild.

Friday, 9 March 2012

I have four blogs in my reading list that seem to have died not long after I started following them. I don't take this personally, I don't think I killed them...well I hope not. I understand how passions run into and out of our lives, which is why I haven't done anything for long enough to become expert at it.
I haven't been writing much lately, I like to make a post a work of art and some hesitation has slowed me but don't worry, my blog is not dying. I love all the people I've met here in blogland and wish I could hug you guys for real but here's a poor substitute XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX (for my followers and a few extra hugs for lurkers).

Apart from posting some art on google+, I've been exploring new mediums in an art course at college one day a week.
At the moment the subject is printmaking, which I thought at first might not be interesting but it is wonderful! Our teacher, Sara Bowen is very talented and a nice woman to spend a day playing with, because that's what we have been doing. First we did stamping.

We stamped using ready made stamps...

We stamped using found stuff like mesh bags and the soles of children's sandals...

We made rubber stamps cut out of erasers (I made a brick and a little man with a briefcase) and we stamped some more...

I kinda got immersed in the rush hour theme and a dozen prints and hundreds of stamps later...

I haven't got anything funny to say in this post. Oh except that on the first day I made an ass of myself and accidentally broke my teacher's artwork.

Friday, 2 March 2012

During Leap Blog Day - which was a marvelous idea put together at We Band of Mothers I came across the blog Periphery and the following challenge.

It's called the "Ten Minute Spill" and is suggested by Rita Dove - she was a US Poet Laureate and has assorted hardware to her credit, so I think she might know a thing or two about writing.
Here's the gist of it:
Write ten lines in ten minutes- she suggests poetry, but I think it would work for lyrical prose, too.
These ten lines must include the following:
- A proverb, adage, or familiar phrase that you have changed in some way.
- Five of the following words:

cliff blackberry

needle cloud

voice mother

whir lick

I took the challenge and funnily enough (because I didn't read the instructions) I followed the exercise almost to the letter without even realizing it. (used all eight words, familiar phrase? - sorta).

This is what I came up with, a little sad but I'm happy with it.

Where is my mother?

In a whir of memories of
hospital, needles and tubes.

I can't hear her voice,
or smell her spit on my hair
to hold down a cow lick.

Now, high in a cloud, on a cliff,
overlooking my own downhill
fall into the blackberry...

Rapunzel was my favourite fairy tale. It's strangely ironic that little girls who are read this tale are much too young to ogle princes and so I can only attribute it's popularity, with me anyway, to the hair thing and the tower thing - which is what I loved most about it. This is my version...

Rapunzel's mother, the Queen, was off sausage whilst pregnant with her and fell in love with the lesbian rocket scientist who lived below the castle (the Queen didn't want to ravage her rapier - she wanted to browse her broccoli) he he - yeah I know - sorry.
In those dark times lesbians were given a pointy hat and burned as witches at the stake - which put us years behind in technological advancement as great creative ideas went up in smoke.

The two women had a nine month affair after which the Queen went back to sausage and the other woman, scorned, stole away the Queen's newborn child, Rapunzel (who should have been called Broccolini).

Rapunzel was locked in a high tower with only the following textbooks - 'Introduction to Rocket Science and Engineering', 'Rocket Propulsion Elements', 'Fundamentals of Astrodynamics' and 'Aeronautical Engineering' for company.
While other children were watching the first episodes of the 'Simpsons' and 'All American Dad' (the shows are that old), Rapunzel was reading about lift, drag and internal combustion engines and developed an incredibly powerful fuel with a base of hair, spider web and condensed urine.

On Rapunzel's sixteenth birthday she completed construction of a jet engine and escaped marriage to royalty, with years of diplomatic child bearing and assassination attempts, by taking off to worlds hitherto unknown.

Thursday, 1 March 2012

I got another award from the lovely Lilly at The Incoherent Ramblings of a Moose - she has a very funny/thoughtful/creative (pretty much an all rounder actually) blog and is a nice woman who I would love to ask to dinner sometime if she's ever in the area...thank you Lilly!

It's pretty isn't it? It comes with rules that are meant to be broken but I'll try not to.

I like pink and green.
My bedspread has pink and green on it.
I inherited a dinner service from my mum that is pink and green.
It was 38 degrees in our upstairs bedroom today.
My 16yr old son went to school for the first time this year.
I started school when I was four.
We have a composting toilet.
I prefer raspberry flavour to strawberry.
My toe nails need clipping.
I like random factorizing.

10 Random facts are much more interesting when people don't expect them.

About Me

Illustrator, artist of the funny peculiar variety and one upon a time commercial artist.I live on the east coast of Australia on a bushland property with my husband, two sons, a dog, a guinea pig, and some chooks.Prints of some of my artworks can be purchased from my Fine Art America page.My website is at www.juliehutchinson.com.auMy Etsy store feedingthecat